


Definitely Not Scared

by ugandadistrict9



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Cryptid bullshit, Dadsona: Elijah Rae, Fluff, M/M, Named Dadsona (Dream Daddy), POV First Person, Post-Canon, Road Trips, Shenanigans, Urban Exploration, idk what to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 09:57:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13455834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ugandadistrict9/pseuds/ugandadistrict9
Summary: Robert and Elijah (Dadsona) go on an adventure to an abandoned amusement park. In the middle of the night. Elijah'sdefinitelynot scared.





	Definitely Not Scared

**Author's Note:**

> sgssjhl im would die for bobert small...  
> normally i like to be more eloquent in my titles/descriptions but like. there's not much else to say about this. pls enjoy it and love it as much as i loved writing it.

It's been almost a year since Robert told me he wasn't ready for a relationship. A few months after that, he told me that he wanted to try, ready or not. He knew I was lonely with my daughter gone, and he said he'd try to be with me. It's still unofficial, and sometimes Robert is still distant, but we spend quite a lot of time together, and he seems to be more happy, so I'm happy.

 

“Robert?” I call. I had woken up with him this morning, and he had been in my bed when I left a mere 30 minutes ago, but that said almost nothing about his current whereabouts. He likes to come and go as he pleases.

 

I'm coming back from getting groceries. Robert sort of has free run of my house now, so I never know what to expect when I come home. In a way, it's no different from when Amanda was here, so it's not unwelcome, I suppose. It is a little bit troubling sometimes, never knowing if Robert’s gonna be around or not, him not telling me when or if he's going to show up at my door -- or my window, or in my bed, and then him leaving, sometimes for days. I love having him around. I'm just still not quite used to how much he represents the idea of ‘having one’s own agenda.’

 

I set down my groceries on the counter. I start putting them away when I pick up on some kind of sound coming from my room. So Robert is here. I finish putting away the important stuff, then I seek out Robert.

 

I open my bedroom door to see him, dressed in boxers and _my_ t-shirt, sitting at my desk, in front of my computer. I can't help but smile. I'm always afraid that I'll come home to find Robert gone without a trace, and I'm relieved to see him here, looking so comfortable. I'm feeling lovey dovey just looking at him.

 

“Hey,” he greets, gaze only flicking once up to me from being fixated on the screen. A YouTube video is playing.

 

“‘Exploring a HAUNTED Abandoned Ghost Town’?” I ask him.

 

“It's an urban exploration video,” he says, as if that explains everything.

 

“A what?”

 

Robert pauses the video and turns to face me. “They explore creepy abandoned places. It's called urban exploration.”

 

“I see.”

 

Robert turns back to the video, clicking play again. I watch with him for a little while. It is admittedly intriguing. It ends and Robert clicks on another one in the related, this one proclaiming a haunted amusement park. I notice something that intrigues me about the video’s description.

 

“You know,” I say, smiling to myself. “There used to be an abandoned amusement park where I grew up. We walked by it every day on the way to school. One kid, Jimmy, disappeared one day, and we all knew it was the ghosts that haunted that park. The police never found his body.”

 

“Did you ever go in it?”

 

“Er, no. I was too afraid. But it intrigued me. Every day when I walked past it… I could feel a force pulling me toward it… It was out for blood.” Robert’s hanging on my every word, and I'm really surprised. He often gets me with his bullshit stories, but I didn't think I'd ever really be able to get him. He must really be interested in this urban exploration stuff. “And this was right here…” I say, “...in Massachusetts.”

 

“Really?” he asks.

 

“I dunno. I just made that up, cause the description of the video says the park is in Massachusetts.”

 

Robert glares at me for a second, realising what has just happened to him. “Okay, first of all, you're getting too good at that. Stop it, that's my thing.”

 

“What, lying?” I smirk, leaning against the computer desk and raising my eyebrows at him.

 

“Yes,” he deadpans. “And second of all, if this really is in our state…” He's typing something into the search bar now. I don't think I like where this is going.

 

“Aha,” he proclaims, “abandoned theme park in Knife’s Edge, Massachusetts.”

 

“Knife’s Edge?” That's not creepy or anything. “Is that a real place?”

 

“Apparently. I think I've been there once before actually.”

 

“Of course you have.”

 

“It's just off Boston. Which is only like a 3 hour drive away.”

 

“We're not going to an abandoned theme park, Robert.”

 

He snorts. “You're not my dad. I go with or without you.” … “But I'd like it if you came,” he adds softly.

 

“Robert.”

 

“C’mon, it'll be exciting. Where's your sense of adventure?”

 

\---

 

And that's how I found myself on my way to trespass in an insanely creepy abandoned amusement park, in the middle of the night with Robert. Robert told me to meet him at his house with ‘my things’ at 10pm. It being a three or so hour drive, we’d make it to the park at around 1am. I'm admittedly a little excited. I have no idea if I brought the right kind of ‘things’ though. I brought a change of clothes, the pocket knife Robert gave me, a phone charger, my toothbrush and a bunch of miscellaneous things I thought might be relevant. But I don't know what our plan is. Robert had insisted on not booking a hotel, proclaiming, “We can sleep in my pickup if necessary.”

 

It's the ‘if necessary’ part that really gets me. Does he not sleep? I've personally seen him sleep for 14 hours straight. I don't know what he's trying to do here.

 

I walk over to Robert’s when it's time. I see him standing on his porch, sucking at his vape. I had proposed it to him once as a method of quitting smoking, and he had expressed concern of looking stupid doing it, and said no. But to my relief and surprise, he acquired one anyways, without me ever even mentioning it to him again. He cares about me.

 

The vapour smells vaguely like an artificial vanilla, and it dissipates quickly in the cool night air, so the scent hardly even lingers.

 

“You ready to go?” Robert asks as I approach.

 

“I guess?” I say, shrugging.

 

Robert disappears inside for a second to grab his backpack and pat his dog on the head, promising her he shall return, then heads past me towards his truck.

 

I get in, and we start driving. Robert plugs in his phone and plays some music. Some kind of ‘80s rock. It's nice.

 

We haven't even left Maple Bay yet, and Robert is turning into a drive thru. Before I can even open my mouth to ask, he explains, quite simply: “Coffee. You look tired.”

 

“I'm not exactly used to getting up in the middle of the night to drive for 3 hours and then go get killed by ghosts and/or get arrested in creepy old amusement parks.”

 

Robert clicks his tongue at me, disapproving. He orders us both large coffees from whatever 24hr fast food chain he’s brought us to. I request two cream, two sugar, he scoffs, and orders us both black.

 

“Do you even know where we’re going?” I ask once we’re on the highway, wincing at the strength of the coffee.

 

“More or less. I have the GPS thing on my phone for when we need it.”

 

“Okay…”

 

I'm uneasy, but I guess it's probably best to just trust Robert. Even though I certainly don't know how to use my phone’s GPS, that's not to say that Robert doesn’t. Hashtag not all dads are bad with technology.

 

Robert seems to sense my discomfort after a while, and he thumbs at the volume control. “What's up, buttercup?”

 

I stare blankly at him for a minute, too surprised by his choice of words to really articulate what I'm feeling anymore.

 

“You're cute.”

 

Robert looks back to the road. “I don't think that’s what you were wanting to say,” he grunts.

 

“No, but it was also true. I was going to say that I'm kinda nervous. What the hell are we getting ourselves into right now?”

 

“Who knows, baby,” Robert says, cracking a smile. “That's the beauty of it.”

 

He turns his music back up again as a particularly interesting song comes on, and we drive without conversation for a while.

 

I'm really tired, but I'm getting more and more anxious the longer we sit in this car for, and there's no way I can sleep with this kind of excitement going on. Looking out into the dark night, I'm a little bit freaked out. Robert is so weird, I think, making me go out to do this shit with him. But then I think, he didn't make me. I agreed to this. I must want to be here. And I guess I do. I like spending time with Robert, and I've always had fun on weird adventures with him before, but somehow this is still different. There's too much dedication right now. A lot of Robert’s shenanigans are, as the kids might say, for the meme. But this is too long of a drive, too much of a commitment, to just be _for the meme_. Unless Robert’s entire life is dedicated to the meme.

 

... What is a _meme_ anyway?

 

“Look,” Robert is saying, interrupting my train of thought. He’s pointing with his steering wheel hand to a sheep on the side of the road.

 

“Aww, it's so cute.”

 

“What should we name it?”

 

“What? It's not ours, we're not-”

 

“We can still name it.”

 

I fall quiet. I watch the sheep disappear behind us into the night.

 

“Thor,” I suggest.

 

Robert looks to be mulling the name over for a second. “Yeah,” he agrees. “A wild sheep can be an almighty god if he wants to. Or she, she could be a she. We don’t know that sheep.”

 

“Truer words have never been spoken.”

 

Nothing else happens for a while, except I run out of coffee. I'm starting to feel a tad more awake now.

 

Robert and I just listen to his music for a while. Some of it is more obscure, but there's a lot of good oldies here. Robert has good taste.

 

Before I know it, we’re pulling over into a parking lot. “Where are we?” I ask.

 

Robert shrugs. “Gas station.”

 

Okay. Cool.

 

Robert parks and hops out of the car, not waiting for me to respond. I don't really have to go to the bathroom, so I decide to wait in the truck.

 

I'm alone. In the dark. In silence. That's cool. I didn't really realize it before, but the music was what was stopping me from being afraid of this adventure a few moments ago. I start seeing things moving in the darkness of the run-down, middle of nowhere gas station parking lot, and I quickly get out of the car to follow Robert inside. I'll feel better if I'm inside.

 

I mull around, looking at the gas station food while I wait for him. I'm not scared. The bored-looking employee behind the counter looks at me, unspeaking, expressionless. There's no radio playing in here, just carried on silence. I'm _definitely_ not scared, I tell myself.

 

Nothing about this situation is scary. I'm only about 2 hours away from home, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of _the night,_  with a slightly frightening man who I'm only kinda dating, with no means of transportation besides him, and about to be in a _haunted amusement park_. That's totally cool. It's also totally cool that I'm in a foreign and silent gas station, alone. That doesn't freak me out or anything.

 

I stare at the selection of brightly coloured drinks in the cooler. I'm shaky from caffeine and anxiety, just looking at the energy drinks frightens me. I wanna go to _bed_. I suddenly remember that I'm either going to be sleeping in Robert’s old pickup truck in some equally creepy place tonight, or not sleeping at all. Why did I agree to do this?

 

Someone is touching my waist all of a sudden and I jump, letting out a loud yelp.

 

Robert recoils. “Jeez, what's got you so high-strung…” he mumbles, turning away to look at the drink cooler, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

 

“Don't scare me like that.” I'm leaning against a shelf now, clutching my heart. Robert’s right, I need to chill out a little bit, jeez, I'm letting random things get to me. I'm not going to survive our excursion if a regular old gas station is freaking me out.

 

Robert hums.

 

He buys a bag of chips before we leave, and a bottled iced coffee. I insist that I don't want anything besides water, and he shrugs at me.

 

When we get back out to the car, Robert grabs my hand to stop me.

 

“What is it?” I ask.

 

Robert wraps his free arm around me, and gets in _really_ close. I'm admittedly a little bit intimidated. He kisses me on the lips, and it's somehow authoritative but also very gentle and soft.

 

“Don't be so afraid,” he says between the kisses. “I’m not so scary, am I? I get this is, like, weird and spooky, but, it's supposed to be fun. You should've told me if you were scared.” There's a playful hint to his tone, but he's otherwise being very genuine. He wants to comfort me.

 

“I-I’m not scared,” I mumble in protest.

 

He chuckles, hushing me with another peppering of kisses. His breath is hot and intoxicating on my face. “Well, good. We haven't even gotten to the scary part yet.” He smooches me on the nose, and leaves me standing there as he gets into the car and starts it.

 

I'm undoubtedly chilled by his words. And I regret telling him I'm not afraid. He was being sweet for a second there; I should've said, oh, Robert, I'm terrified, hold me, so he would've comforted me. I like seeing the softer, sweeter side of Robert. It hasn't come out much yet, at this point in time. Only when we wake up together in the mornings does Robert, half-asleep, like to snuggle and nuzzle into me, whispering nonsensical words of adoration into my neck. Most other times, it’s hard to draw those kinds of emotions out of him. Secretly, I think he’s actually quite clingy, but he has yet to really show it outside of the bedroom.

 

I realize that I'm smiling. Maybe Robert did do an alright job of comforting me.

 

We’re apparently getting close to our destination now, and Robert asks me to start up the GPS on his phone. I don't know how to do that, but I’m afraid he won't be bothered to pull over if he has to do it himself. I don't endorse distracted driving.

 

“Uhh…” I'm looking at all the apps on his phone’s home screen. I don't know which one to click. Why does Robert have Snapchat? Amanda told me that was a social media that’s off-limits for dads, and I'm not allowed to ask about it ever again.

 

“It looks like a map,” Robert aids me. “I think.”

 

“You think.”

 

Eventually I find one that might be what he's looking for, just called ‘Maps’. Sure enough, when I click on it, the route for where we're going is already programmed in.

 

“Oh,” I say. “Neat.”

 

“So where to?”

 

I give Robert the directions for the next few turns.

 

We're still in the car for a while before we finally get to where we’re trying to go. My anxieties are coming back full force as we pull into a run-down looking parking lot, and the GPS exclaims: “You have arrived at your destination.”

 

Robert turns the key and the music shuts off abruptly. The silence is chilling. He unbuckles and grabs my half-empty water bottle, shoving it and his phone into the seemingly endless amounts of pockets inside his leather jacket.

 

We get out of the truck, locking it behind us.

 

“You ready for some trespassing?” Robert grins.

 

I nod half-heartedly, trailing behind him. Why is this happening? Why did I allow this to happen? This is spooky shit. This is _illegal_ spooky shit. I have a daughter, how am I letting this man get away with being such a bad influence? Why am I letting this man get away with _anything_?

 

We walk under a deteriorating sign that once said the amusement park’s name on it. It's illegible.

 

There's a fence guarding the following area, with a few small huts I imagine were once ticket booths.

 

“Please form queue, huh?” Robert reads the faded sign on the fences with an animated grin. He peers into one of the ticket booths, pulling a small flashlight from his jacket. I peek out over his shoulder at it, timid. There's just some rubble and a lot of graffiti inside.

 

“We're VIPs, we don't need to wait in your stupid line,” Robert says as he hops over the fallen down gate that’s supposed to be blocking us off from the rest of the park.

 

“Yeah,” I say half-heartedly, trying to get into the excited mood Robert is in. “I got a problem with authority.”

 

I pull out my flashlight, too, as I'm a little afraid Robert will run off without me in all his excitement, like a child.

 

The first thing to catch my eye as we follow the overgrown path into the park is a big roller coaster, still mostly intact, towering over the whole place. It's _terrifying_ to look at.

 

“Awesome,” says Robert.

 

“Okay, it is actually pretty cool.”

 

“I told you it would be. C’mon.” Robert’s leading us down what used to be the path to some kind of attraction. There doesn't turn out to be much here.

 

“Hm, they must have taken this one out to repurpose it.”

 

“What do you think it was?”

 

Robert sees something apparently exciting, judging by his facial expression. “Some kinda ride. Look.”

 

There's a cart from some ride of some sort that must have broken down and been left behind. It's so covered in plants that I wouldn't have even seen it.

 

“Whoa,” Robert exclaims as he brushes dust and plants off of it.

 

“What?” I ask, too scared to actually look.

 

“It was some sort of character, I guess. Jeez, isn't that creepy?” He shines his light on it for me, and it is indeed very creepy. The chipping paint and rust on the over-exaggerated smile of whatever kind of animal mascot this ride was based on is just unsettling.

 

“Yeah, that's… that's creepy,” I affirm.

 

Robert is smiling way too much. He’s gorgeous when he smiles, but… This isn't the goddamned time. Someone stop this man.

 

We move on to find more creepy shit.

 

“So, what's the story behind this place?” asks Robert.

 

“Huh?”

 

“What's the haunted horror story here? We've gotta have one of those.”

 

“Well, I dunno, Robert, you're the one who found this place. What did they say in that video?”

 

“They didn’t mention any lore. That part is up to us,” he grins.

 

“Hmm. Maybe the park was shut down because somebody died?”

 

“Too cliché, no… The park was shut down because... the creator was revealed to be a pedophile who built a park to lure child victims.”

 

“That's less scary.”

 

“Only because you're old and you have nothing to fear from pedophiles. Okay, what if he killed them then? He killed children.”

 

“Why does there have to be a backstory?”

 

Robert kicks at a rock on the ground, dejected at my lack of enthusiasm. “Fine.”

 

We come to a stop before a run-down building. It might've said FUNHOUSE on it once, but with most of the letters and half of an O gone now, it's more of a FU  C   E. And somebody has spray painted over the E...

 

“Fuckhouse,” Robert says. “Awesome.”

 

He approaches the creepy old door, and tries the handle, absolutely no fear in his goddamn heart. He wiggles it. The door doesn't open. It's locked. He sighs in disgust. “Guess we can't fuck in here…”

 

I'm secretly a little relieved. This place is creeping me out already, I'm not really sure I'd want to go into any building here, especially not one this big. It's probably not safe, either.

 

Robert’s taking out a pocket knife. Oh no. Oh no no no no no _no_.

 

“Robert? I think that's illegal.”

 

Robert does a full 180° to look at me from where he’s jamming his knife into the lock. He gives me a theatrical, exaggerated shrug (¯\\_(ツ)_/ ¯), and he's still _smiling_. He's smiling way too big.

 

“Robert, you should probably not-” Oh goddammit. He actually picked the lock. I can't even- “How…?”

 

“Oh, many years of practice, my dear, sweet, innocent, Elijah.”

 

Robert walks right into the dark funhouse, flashlight _off_. There is no hesitation in this motherfucker. God. Damn. I rush to catch up to him, not wanting to be on my own.

 

I look all around me, trying to get a grip on my surroundings, and trying to find Robert. It's really dark in here. There's not much left in here, from the looks of it. I'm not really sure what even goes in a funhouse. I'm not sure I want to find out. Especially not when it's creepy like this.

 

“Robert?”

 

Oh shit. I lost Robert. I'm alone.

 

“Robert?” I call again. Ugh. This isn't happening.

 

I walk further into the creepy hallways of the fuckhouse. Whoa, the floor here is all messed up. I think it's supposed to be hard to walk on? Oh man. Where did Robert go. I come to a few doors on the wall. I don't want to open _any_ of them.

 

“Hey, Rob?” I call, swallowing. My throat is dry. Everything is pitch black. I shine my light into all the corners of the room, and back behind me the way I came. I don't see him. I'm starting to panic a little bit. “Robert? This … kinda isn't funny, if you're doing this on purpose.”

 

“It's not?” A voice says from behind me.

 

I _scream_.

 

I hear Robert laughing, and my face flushes red as I whip around to face him.

 

“Oh man, Elijah, you're so funny. I love you. I'm sorry. Man. That's good stuff.”

 

It would be an understatement to say this really isn't how I was expecting to hear Robert say ‘I love you’ to me for the first time.

 

I'm cold, and sweating, and my heart is pounding so fast. “Do not do that,” is all I manage to say.

 

“Sorry,” he says, but he's still grinning.

 

“You fuckin’ better be,” I pant.

 

Robert gives me a hug, patting me on the back.

 

“How did you even _do_ that?”

 

He shrugs. “Practice?”

 

“Don't do it again, please, please, don't do it again, and don't leave me _behind,_ Robert. It's dark and we're being illegal and something bad could actually happen.”

 

“Aww, ‘lijah, are you scared?”

 

“Of course I'm scared! I've been scared the entire goddamn time!”

 

“Ohh, Elijah…” Robert frowns, looking down at the floor. He’s picking at his hands nervously. “I'm sorry.”

 

“It's okay, Rob,” I sigh, calming down at his sheepish expression. He meant me no harm. “I'm just a scaredy-cat.”

 

“No, I was being sorta mean. This is supposed to be fun. Are … are you having fun?”

 

“I mean, I guess this is pretty exciting. And I really admire your passion, for one thing. It's… nice to see you so excited. I like it when you’re happy.”

 

Robert squeezes my hand. “That’s sweet.”

 

I kiss him on the cheek. “Now, c’mon, it’s scary, let’s either keep exploring the building, or get the hell out of here.”

 

“Wanna take selfies in weird mirrors?”

 

“Alright.”

 

Sure enough, behind one of the doors, is a creepy, deteriorating hall of mirrors. A few of them are cracked, and they’re all extremely dusty and gross. Robert pulls out his phone and we take a few pictures, our images distorted hilariously.

 

“You think when we look at these pictures later, there’ll be a weirdly deformed demon in the reflection with us?” Robert asks, snapping another picture of us in one of the cracked ones. It’s not distorted apart from the cracks, so the picture actually turns out kind of cool, especially in the dark with only the phone’s bad flash for lighting. I'm looking over his shoulder at his phone.

 

“Robert, are you … Snapchat...ing that?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You have Amanda on Snapchat!?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“She told me I wasn’t allowed to get that social media, it’s dad-banned! Why are you not dad-banned?”

 

Robert laughs at me, and starts typing something, presumably to Amanda.

 

“What are you saying? What are you telling her? She’s my daughter, I have the right to know what you’re saying to h-”

 

A crashing sound cuts me off. Both Robert and I jump, looking up, alert.

 

“Robert, if this is another-”

 

“It’s not.”

 

We both look at each other, wide-eyed. Robert takes my hand.

 

We flee from the Fuckhouse, and don’t stop running until we’re both out of breath. I think Robert is … actually scared. Normally I’d be happy at that, and poke some fun at him maybe, but right now, I’m terrified. And if Robert’s terrified too… That is not good.

 

“Robert…” I pant, bent over, trying to catch my breath. “Are we going to die?”

 

“Maybe. Who knows. This is kind of awesome though.”

 

“Still? Really??”

 

Robert smiles at me, wiping sweat from his forehead. This situation is almost comical. But I’m still pretty fucking scared. Adrenaline is pumping through me from all the running.

 

“Are we going to go back home now?” I ask, sitting down on a fallen log.

 

“Well, that all depends,” says Robert. “Do _you_ know which way we came in from?”

 

Oh _shit._

 

“Now, don’t freak out,” Robert interrupts me before I even get the chance to say anything.

 

But I sort of am freaking out. Everything looks kind of the same in the dark. I’m not entirely sure what direction we ran in from the funhouse, either. And I’m not even sure if I want to go back there, anyways. There was something or someone there. Or maybe something just fell. But I’m really not willing to take any chances.

 

“We’ll find the car,” Robert assures me. “And in the meantime, there's still more to see, right?”

 

I look up to see the silhouette of the big rollercoaster against the skyline. “I guess…”

 

I look up at Robert. Even he looks a little uneasy. I don’t feel very assured.

 

He looks down at me, meeting my gaze. “Scared?” he says, lightening his expression, obviously trying to hide his own fear, as he knows he’s supposed to be the brave one here.

 

I only nod.

 

He sits down next to me on the log, sitting with one leg over each side, to face me, almost straddling the log in a comical way. He cups my face in his hands. “Don’t be.” His voice is sweet and soft and low. “It’s okay.” I don’t know if he’s trying to convince himself or me.

 

He’s kissing me now. It’s unexpected, but not unwelcome. His tongue, also unexpected, is not unwelcome either.

 

I’m really making out with Robert in an abandoned amusement park at two in the morning. That’s really what’s happening here.

 

Robert pulls away after a very long, sweet, passionate time. It’s dark, but I can _feel_ the redness of his face so close to mine.

 

“Less scared?” he breathes.

 

“Robert, I’m still scared. Now I’m just scared _and_ turned on.”

 

Robert strokes my cheek, turning away. “The best way to be.”

 

… I could think of _so_ many better ways to be, but I don't protest.

 

Robert hands me the water bottle from his coat, and we finish it off. We both stand up eventually.

 

“You wanna go check out that sick coaster now?”

 

Robert looks surprised at me. “Hell yeah,” he says. He puts the empty water bottle back into his coat, and we set off once more. I'm still uneasy, but I think it's better to be moving than to be sitting down, lost, in this creepy place. Hopefully Robert and I will find more fun things to laugh about and not any more scary things.

 

“What do you think that was in the funhouse?” Robert asks as we walk. “Is it time to make up ghost stories now?”

 

“Maybe it was the ghost of a child that died here.”

 

“You know, that's cliché, but, I'm scared enough right now that anything’s believable.”

 

I look over at Robert. He’s scared… I bite my lip.

 

We come up to what was once the queue for the rollercoaster. It's beaten up so badly, and the stairs don't look safe.

 

“This is cool, huh?” Robert says. We're both just looking up at the impressively still in tact structure. It must be made of metal, not wood, otherwise it would have rotted and come crashing down probably.

 

“Yeah.”

 

There isn't much else to say about it, so we move on shortly. The next thing we come upon that's of interest is a gross pit that once harboured a water attraction.

 

“Ewww,” I say, shining my light into the empty pool.

 

There's a few ugly brightly coloured boats in the bottom of the pool, that maybe once were supposed to look like pirate ships, and there's some murky water under them. In the middle of the pool there's a weird statue, maybe of a mermaid. It's so old, and it's really dark, you can't really tell.

 

“Gross,” says Robert. “But cool.”

 

We move on, seeing several more weird and run-down attractions, and I'm getting more and more worried each time. How big is this park? and we don't know where we are. We could be lost for hours out here. And something could happen to us... We might not be alone here. And what if police showed up? We’re not even allowed to be here.

 

I grab hold of Robert’s hand.

 

He flashes me a sympathetic smile. “It'll be okay.”

 

We come up to a building, and my heart is going really fast.

 

“Is this the funhouse?” I ask quietly. My emotions are all muddled. I'm terrified that there's something after us here, but it also means that the way out is nearby.

 

“I think?”

 

Robert shines his flashlight up at the building, revealing an ‘exit’ door with a really creepy painting of a clown on it. I cling to Robert’s arm.

 

“Can we get out of here, please.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Robert says meekly, obviously afraid by the clown drawing as well.

 

We're both scared out of our minds as we work our way slowly, quietly around the building to find the entrance we’d gone into it through earlier. Directly past that entrance is the gate we came in through, and that's where the truck is parked.

 

I don't know what’s happening, but Robert is suddenly insisting we run. I really hope he knows where he's going. My heart is pounding in my ears and my lungs are on fire as we make a dash for our lives, not stopping until we’ve reached the entrance, and made it through the ticket station.

 

I'm panting. I cling tightly to Robert. “The car, let's go to the car, please,” I yell.

 

Robert and I rush over and climb into the truck, and he slams the door, hitting the lock control as fast as he can.

 

We both just stare wordlessly into the dark, gasping for breath.

 

“What happened? Why did we have to run?” I ask when he starts the vehicle. “Are we dying? Robert are we going to die??? Are we going to get arrested or are we going to die!? Or both!?!?!”

 

“I dunno, nothing happened, nothing, I honestly think I just psyched myself out. I was scared out of my fucking mind, Elijah. Holy shit.”

 

He’s backing out of the parking lot now, and my heart is still racing even once we’re on the highway towards home again.

 

“That was so scary. You can’t yell at me to run if there's nothing actually there!” But I'm not mad. I'm just glad we’re safe. “I thought I was gonna die, Robert.”

 

“Me too,” Robert says. “I didn't even see anything. I was just thinking, something could be there, and I got so freaked out I just wanted to go. I don't think I've ever been that scared in my life.”

 

“It's over now,” I say. “We're okay.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Should I put on some music?”

 

“Please.”

 

I plug in my phone to Robert’s aux. I don't have a lot of music on here, but Amanda showed me how to use this music app, and I downloaded a few pretty good bands. I put on the most calming, pleasant album that I have.

 

“You know how I said we didn't need a hotel?” Robert says after a while, looking a little bit embarrassed.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Well, it seemed pretty smart at the time, but now that it's like 2:30 in the morning, and we're three hours from home, I'm sort of regretting it. You're smarter than me sometimes. Don't let me make plans like this on my own ever again.”

 

“What happened to sleeping in the truck?” I ask.

 

“It's spooky out here,” he mutters.

 

Awwwwwwww. “Do you want to maybe see if we can motel in the next town coming up?”

 

“Maybe,” he says.

 

It's almost sad to see Robert seem so scared. I never thought he would be. I wish I could cuddle him right now. He might even want to be the little spoon. If not, I'm still pretty freaked out, myself, and could use a good comforting bed and a pair of warm dad arms around me.

 

We listen to some music for a while, unspeaking.

 

“Thank you for tonight,” Robert says tentatively. “I was more scared than I've ever been in my life, so this was definitely a night to remember. Thanks for coming with me.”

 

“I love you, Robert.”

 

Robert blushes, rubbing nervously at his neck. I reach over and give him a squeeze on the thigh. He's cute when he’s embarrassed, but I don't comment. I want him to know it's okay if he's not ready.

 

We still have some chips left from earlier, and we munch gratefully on them as we drive into the night, finally starting to calm down from that encounter.

 

Once we’re back in civilization, Robert pulls into the parking lot at a motel advertising ‘vacancy’ on its sign.

 

We get out of the car and walk towards the door that says ‘check-in’ on it. But it's locked.

 

“They must not have 24 hour check-in,” Robert murmurs.

 

“What are we gonna do now?”

 

“I can keep driving, it's okay.”

 

But before we’re even back to the truck, I catch Robert yawning.

 

“You sure you're good to drive?”

 

“I'm fine.”

 

I look Robert in the eyes. He's exhausted. I want to offer to drive myself, but I'm honestly probably even more tired than he is.

 

“What about sleeping in the truck, huh?” I ask gently.

 

“Hmm. I mean, we could try. Not much room on the inside of the truck. My idea was more of sleeping in the back, but…”

 

“We could try that.” I put on a brave face. If Robert's scared, then what good does me being scared do us? We’ll be absolutely fine. Ghosts don’t exist. Zac Bagans is a liar and a bitch.

 

“We'd have to find somewhere to park, though…”

 

Robert and I spend the next 15 minutes doing just that. We’re in a weird town we've never been to before, and it's small enough to have a lot of free parking, but we have to assess the safety factors of sleeping in all of these places.

 

“So, what do you think? Walmart parking lot or Walgreens parking lot?”

 

“Is there even a difference?”

 

“Which one are we less likely to die in?”

 

“Walgreens. It's less out in the open.”

 

“But it's closer to residential. There could be… I dunno, robbers and shit.”

 

“You're armed.”

 

“I'll be asleep, Eli.”

 

“You could still take ‘em.”

 

…

 

We end up finding what we deem the safest parking lot to sleep in, in a secluded spot at the back of a municipal park, with a kids’ playground.

 

We’re settling into the cargo _bed_ of Robert’s truck. Get it, cause we’re sleeping in it? The sleeping bag is bit of a tight fit for two dads, but I'm happy because it forces us to snuggle. Robert folds up his thick leather jacket to use as a pillow for both of us. I watched him take his wallet and other valuable belongings out to lock them in the car, and was bewildered with the amount of storage space on this thing.

 

I almost pass out immediately when we settle in, too tired to even be bothered by the uncomfortable sleeping spot. But Robert keeps stirring, seemingly unable to achieve bliss like I can.

 

“Elijah?” I hear him whisper.

 

“Yeah?” I murmur back groggily.

 

“There's something here.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“There’s something here,” he repeats firmly, emphasizing each word.

 

“There's wha..?” I roll over to face him. He's sitting up, staring out into the night. I can't see what he's looking at over the closed tailgate, I'm too low down.

 

“Like, an animal or something, maybe.”

 

“Maybe it's Thor.”

 

“What?”

 

“The sheep.”

 

“Oh. Right. No, no, Elijah, I don't ... think it's Thor…”

 

Robert sounds pretty freaked out. But I want to sleep so bad. It's definitely nothing.

 

“I'm sure it's fine…” I murmur, rolling back into comfy oblivion.

 

“Elijah,” Robert hisses. “We need to go.”

 

“But Roooob, I'm shleepy…”

 

He’s struggling to free himself from my arms. “Come on,” he’s saying, through gritted teeth.

 

I let go of Robert, sitting up finally. Whatever he’s seeing it better be pretty fucking scary to interrupt my precious beauty sleep. I look where Robert is looking. And I lock _eyes_ with what he was warning me about. Some kind of creature is staring back at me, eyes glowing in the darkness.

 

“Oh my god,” I whisper.

 

“Get in the truck, let's _go_.”

 

We scramble up to get in the cab of the truck.

 

We drive away, as fast as the law will allow us to.

 

“Okay, what’s the plan _now_?” I ask.

 

“I don't know. Go home?”

 

“I- Yeah, okay. I'm down. What the fuck was that?”

 

“I don't know, Elijah.”

 

“Maybe it followed us all the way from the theme park.”

 

We turn back onto the highway, a mortified silence gripping us.

 

That’s when I spot a sign in the distance boasting _24 hour check in, no reservation needed._

 

“Hey, Robert, look!”

 

“Is it a hotel?”

 

“It's a hotel we could actually get into. Should we check it out?”

 

Robert nods.

 

We get out of Robert’s truck and actually get to book ourselves a hotel room. It's the old kind that has real keys. And it's a little creepy. The employee working the front desk looks tired, but probably isn't a murderer. Nothing else scary happens to us. Robert and I take our stuff from the car and head up to our room for the night.

 

I breathe a sigh of relief when we get into the room. It looks pretty normal, despite the cost being so cheap. On the way up we were joking about it having to be the scene of a recent murder or something at such a price.

 

I flop down on the bed, and Robert flicks off the lights before following suit. It's close to 4 in the morning now, which probably isn't actually that late for Robert, but it's very late for me. Robert shucks his coat onto the chair, and puts the room keys on the bedside table.

 

“I wasn't scared,” Robert insists as he crawls into the bed beside me.

 

“Really?” I pull him in close to me, and he wraps his arms around me in a nice cuddle.

 

“Yeah. Seriously. You can't tell anyone that I was scared.”

 

“Why would I do that?”

 

“I dunno. To make fun of me. I might do it to you.”

 

I chuckle, stroking Robert’s back under his shirt. “Don't worry, we’ll make up an epic story of what happened to us here in the morning. Then nobody has to look bad.”

 

Robert kisses me on the nose.

 

“There's nothing wrong with being scared, though, I think.”

 

“Hmph.”

 

We lay there in silence for a bit, calming down from the scary chain of events.

 

“I still had fun today,” I say after a while. “Did you?”

 

“Yeah. That was exciting.”

 

“That's one way to put it.”

 

“Mhm.” Robert rubs his nose against mine, adorably. Then he goes in for the kiss. I'm so tired, but Robert feels so nice. He’s holding me close to him in a deliberate, sensual way. It's so comforting after all the scary shit that's been going on tonight. I wanna melt into him. We're finally alone, and inside, and safe. Robert kisses are slow and languid, but so drawn out, he’s still making me dizzy. I'm leaning into them, wanting more but being too lethargic to do anything myself. I'm hanging on his every movement by the time he asks: “You up for a little bit more excitement?”

 

\---

 

Robert and I sleep in a lot longer than we expect to that morning. It does us good, though. We're in pretty high spirits when we leave, and the drive back home is a lot of fun. We get coffee (and Robert lets me order what I actually want this time!) and sing along to some upbeat music that I didn't even know Robert would be into.

 

“What should we tell everyone when we get back?” I ask.

 

“Hmm. The creature was a wendigo.”

 

“Why a wendigo?”

 

“Uhh, because they're cool as fuck. Next question.”

 

“So we almost got eaten alive?”

 

“Yes. It was chasing us as we sprinted madly to get back to the truck on time. We were gripped with fear. It grabbed Elijah by the ankle as we were fleeing the funhouse, and somehow, I managed to rescue him on time. It was about to take a bite out of his whole ass leg, and I picked up a rock and bashed it over the head. It charged after me, and I grabbed my friend by the hand and we ran, and ran. We escaped with barely an inch of our lives. Eli, uh, landed face first when he got grabbed, though, and landed on some pretty gnarly rocks. That's how he got these,” Robert grins and reaches a hand over to tickle my bruised neck.

 

“Hey.” I smack him away. “I think people know what hickeys look like, Robert.”

 

He shrugs. “Oh, also, we fucked in the funhouse. Because we’re both fearless and bad-ass,” he claims boldy, sipping his two-sugar-two-cream coffee. “How do you live like this?” he comments on the sweetness.

 

“How do you live with black coffee?”

 

Robert sticks his tongue out at me, like a child. I laugh.

 

“Do you think that really could have been a wendigo… at the park last night?”

 

“I dunno, ‘lijah. It could have been a sheep.”

 

“You said it wasn't a sheep.”

 

“It was three in the morning and there were red eyes staring at me in the dark, what was I going to think? ‘Oh, what a cute sheep’? No, I was thinking, ‘the fucking Dover Ghost is about to eat my asshole, for the love of god, run.’”

 

For some reason that makes me laugh.

 

I receive a text from Amanda. I wonder what's up.

 

It reads:

 

_are you guys good????_

 

 _What?_ I type back.

 

Oh yeah. Robert sent her a picture of us in the amusement park last night. She's wondering what happened.

 

_Oh, yes we’re fine. We almost died, but we’re fine._

 

Amanda: _u almost died?_

Elijah: _…perhaps_

Amanda: _what happened_

Elijah: _Robert tells the story better than I do._

Elijah: _Also why is he allowed to have SnapChat_

 

Amanda sends me a laughing-crying emoji, and a winking kiss emoji. I send her back a sad face.

 

“Amanda wants to know what happened to us last night,” I tell Robert.

 

“Oh, I wanna tell it. Call her.”

 

I dial Amanda. She picks up after the first ring.

 

“Pops?”

 

“Hello, offspring. We’re calling to let you know that we are okay.”

 

“You're still with Robert?”

 

“Yes, hon. I'm putting you on speaker phone now.”

 

“Hello, Bobert,” Amanda greets.

 

He rolls his eyes. “I said not to call me that.”

 

“Oops.” I can hear her grinning. Atta girl. “So, what kind of trouble did y’all get into last night? Dad said you tell the story better than he can.”

 

Robert smiles. “Well, you see…”

 

He tells a fictionalized version of the story that actually happened. I doubt Amanda believes the parts that were true anymore because of Robert’s added ridiculousness, but he makes her laugh a lot, so it’s okay.

 

“I didn't know we had wendigos in Massachusetts,” laughs Amanda.

 

“Well, we do,” I say defensively.

 

“Okay, I gotta get to class soon, Dad, so I'm hanging up now. I'm glad you guys are okay. Seeya soon.”

 

“I love you Amanda.”

 

“Love you too, Dad. Byeeee.”

 

The call ends.

 

Robert seems amused. “See? That's storytelling.”

 

“That's _bullshit_ telling. Amanda didn't believe a word you were saying, even the true parts!”

 

“She did so.”

 

“Nuh uh. My daughter is smarter than that.”

 

“Hmph.”

 

We arrive back in Maple Bay at around two in the afternoon. We’re welcomed home by Robert’s adorable dog, Betsy.

 

Robert apologizes to her for being gone longer than he said he would as he feeds her. It's adorable.

 

I watch him talk affectionately to his dog on the floor as she eats her food.

 

“I’d kill a man for you, Betsy. You know I would.”

 

I love him...

 

Robert looks up at me, trying hard to hide his infantile joy. I smile at him. He's so cute.

 

“So… what now?” he asks. Oh right, I am in his house. We don't actually live together yet. Since I’m here, he must be wondering what we’re going to get up to next today. I grin.

 

“You wanna go tell everyone about our wendigo?”

 

“Hell yeah. You said they wouldn't believe me, though.”

 

“I said _Amanda_ didn't believe you. Somebody else will. You're pretty good at what you do. And I mean, the story is true… mostly.”

 

Robert breaks into a smile, rising to his feet. “Let's do it then.”

 

“Just leave out the part where you said I fell down and received ‘many nasty bruises.’ I think that bit relied on the fact that we were talking on the phone, and she couldn't see that I just have a few hickeys.”

 

“I’ll try,” Robert grins, playfully pressing a gentle kiss into my neck. “It's pretty funny, it's hard to resist… but I'll try.”

 

“Try harder,” I scoff, pushing him away.

 

He laughs, pulling on his leather jacket, and giving Betsy one last affectionate pat before we go. “C’mon, let's go scare some kids.”

 

“Alright!”


End file.
